Hello, how are you?
by North of the North
Summary: High school story. 1st day of school starts with a new transfer student coming into Mathew's life. Then things start to get creepy.
1. Chapter 1

It was the first day of Mathew's grade eleven year. To him that meant that from that day on he had a good two years left to go through until he was done with high school. Not that long at all. He might even be sad to go. Sad to leave that part of his life behind, but he'd never be sad to be leaving his fellow students though. He didn't care about any of them. He wouldn't be sad to leave them. Just the school, and maybe some of the teachers if he really thought about it.

He had woken up at dawn to faint bird song emanating from beyond his window. It was beautiful. A pretty, clear sound. Mathew had risen from his bed and walked quietly, in the way that those freshly awakened or merely quiet in nature often do, to his window. This window painted with white freshly applied paint was his only way to view the world outside of his room. Mathew pulled the dark brown curtains aside and opened up the window.

There were no birds out there that he could see but, that was alright, he was up now anyways. He might as well keep looking out the window. It wasn't often he was able to see the sun rise and colour the sky around him in such a way as it was right then.

"How are you?" Mathew softly questioned the world outside his window in a whisper he could barely hear himself. His voice was as quiet as his nature. He felt a bit silly talking without anyone there beside him. Well, it wasn't like there was anyone there to listen to him.

There was a reason his room was empty for the whole summer. No one had come over, well some people had come over actually but, only to visit his brother. No one had come over to see him, he had no one to come see him. No one had wanted to.

That was just fine though, he didn't need any close friends by him. He was too independent, too busy, and the lack of other people around didn't bother him at all. He was fine with how his life was.

And so, throughout all the years from the very start of elementary and now well into high school he had always been all alone.

Raindrops started to hit the ground outside his window, the drops splattering against the pavement of his driveway to his right. His room was situated at the side of his family's two-story home. So, the sight of a rainy day back dropped against a dull gray street of identical houses to his own home did nothing to lift his mood when he glanced in that direction. But, at least his view didn't face in that direction and so, the dreary sky and street it accompanied didn't bother him.

His window looked out over the park on the left side of his house. Mathew really liked that. With the park right beside them, on his side too, he could go there to think and walk around on its trails whenever he wanted to.

That was always nice, being alone with his thoughts as he was now and in the park. It wasn't like he ever wasn't outside of school. So, he almost had to like it, he had no choice otherwise.

Well, the sun was rising and it was time to get ready for school now. The clock on the desk beside his bed read 7:48 a.m. Now was definitely when he needed to start getting ready then. It was officialy morning.

Mathew sighed and headed downstairs to make a breakfast of pancakes and eggs for himself and his brother Alfred.

This day already looked like it foretold that this would not be a very fun school year, for him at least.

"Somebody, please come into my life. I want to feel alive." Mathew whispered under his breath while walking down his homes soft carpeted stairs and into its neat kitchen.

"Please, make me feel alive. Anyone."


	2. Chapter 2

Lars' pov

'Yet another new school to settle in at.' Lars thought as he looked up at the imposing building situated in front of him.

'Yet another one. I wonder how long it will take Mom to find a new life for herself, and me, after this? Let's see, it's been, what? Twenty-one times that we've moved in the past...five years? I guess it's not easy for her being a con artist. Then again now that I've been doing it for this long I guess I am one too. I'd best stop dilly-dallying around, and just find the next target already. It won't be that hard to find one, after all, this is a school. There are tons of kids. I can have my pick among hundreds of people. I guess that's why I'm not too excited about it anymore, there's no challenge in choosing a forgettable target out of this many people. It's kind of boring really.'

Lars scanned the crowd of faces around himself idly.

'It's kind of a thrill knowing that I have the life of whoever I pick in my hands. I get to choose who will die. I could even make this into a game. Actually, why don't I? Eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. Well, that's the one, I guess.'

The boy he'd chosen had wavy blond hair, and glasses from what he could see about twenty feet away from him. He was wearing a bright red bunny hug.

'Perfect, he's even wearing an identifier so I can find him easily.'

'How many days do you have left to live now? I guess that depends on how easily you trust, Blondie.'

Lars trailed the target through the hallways, then purposefully dropped his open bag onto the floor near him so that its contents spilled everywhere. As expected, the blond boy stopped, faltered, then hurried over to Lars to help him gather his stuff up. Lars waved away the other students who also stopped to help. They weren't needed.

"Are you okay?" Blondie asked.

Lars nodded pretending to be the quiet type. "Um, yeah." He made sure his voice matched the personality he'd chosen. As the blond boy went to stand back up, Lars grabbed his wrist. "…Thank you. For helping me, that is. What's your name?"

"Mathew."

Now to let him feel obligated to help him because he's the "new kid".

"Um, Mathew? Do you go here? Um, like before this year that is. I'm new, can you show me around the school?"

Lars almost felt bad about the smile that crept onto the boy's face then. 'He wouldn't be smiling if he knew the real reason why I'm talking to him.'

"Yeah," Mathew said. "I can do that."

"Thanks."

'Thank God his name is easy to remember. It's always so much trouble to actually put effort into remembering things about the targets. People always have so many expectations. By pretending to be their friend, I have to actually know stuff about them, and you can tell the targets are bothered when I don't remember.'

For a moment there as he follows the blond boy-Mathew- Lars almost agreed with his Mom's habits. It would be so much easier to just get rid of the person instead of having to keep trying to please them all the time. For a moment there, he could truly understand his Mom instead of the distant feeling he'd held onto about all of this since it started with that first Target, his father.

* * *

"Hey." Lars whispered in his second period class to Mathew who coincidentally shared that same class with him. He'd made sure they sat together. "Do you know where these classes are?"

"Yes, of course I do." Mathew said.

"Could you show me around to all of them?"

"Yes, I thought we already agreed on that earlier. Now, shh, the teacher is talking."

'So, do I really need to pay attention to this?'

"Okay, Matt." Lars said instead. He had to make sure he kept the peace.

That was all on Monday, now it is Friday and Lars is sure he's gained Mathew's trust.

"Hey Matt," Lars said. "Would you like to come to my house to watch a movie, or something? You said you like history movies, so I found one you might like."

Mathew smiled shyly. "That sounds wonderful Lars. I'll come over right after school, right?"

"Yeah."

"See you then."

Their school bell rang, and both of them hurried to their own house, one to set up the plan his mother and him had figured out to capture their newest Target, and the other to gather his clothes together while innocently thinking about what a wonderful time he would have with his friend.


	3. Chapter 3

So now Mathew was standing outside of Lars' house. It was one of those new houses that looked exactly like every other house on that block. It was forgettable and indistinguishable from the masses. No one would ever think a second thought about it.

'That's such a weird thought to have. '

Mathew found the doorbell and rang it immediately hearing footsteps from the other side, and a shadow moving behind the glass part of the door. No, not one shadow, there were two. The door opened, and Lars smiled out at Mathew with a middle-aged woman behind him looking up from arranging the shoes by the door to make room for one more pair.

"Hello," she said. "My name is Emma. I am Lars' mom."

Mathew smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Emma. Thank you for letting me come into your home."

"It's no problem at all, sweetie."

Mathew smiled politely at his hosts as he stepped further into their house. "Your home is very nice." He commented casually before he turned around to face Lars' mom and saw the bat headed straight for his head too late for him to stop it.

The last thing he saw was that Lars' indifferent expression hadn't changed in the least. That hurt more than the bat's impact did.

* * *

Lars watched Mathew slump to the floor as if he was some invertebrate, boneless, and spotted the blood on his mother's bat and the drops dripping from Mathew's hair. He made a split-second decision and spoke up before he'd even decided on it fully. "Before we kill him, could I ask you something?"

"What?" His mother asked looking at him.

"Could we spare him? Just him. No others, but could he get to live?"

His mother froze. "Honey-"

"Please." Lars interrupted her and she sighed.

"I'll think about it." She admitted then turned away, likely to go wash off the bat. "Tie him up and put him in the cellar for now."

"How clichéd, Mother."

She laughed. "Well, you have to admit it works. We haven't been caught yet after all."

She disappeared into the kitchen and Lars stared down at the fallen blond at his feet. With his blond hair and thin body he looked like such a sweet little thing that had just decided to take a nap lying on the ground like that.

Lars kicked Mathew's leg, fixing the way his body had fallen. Now it was even better.

Interesting.

Glancing out the glass window of the door, Lars decided that he liked the way that he was able to so easily make the boy seem prettier, cuter.

Mathew could be his little doll from now on. He had always liked receiving some of those from his mother and taking care of them until he decided he liked them enough, and yanked their heads off.

Mathew would be his perfect little doll, that he alone could control, and that would be so delicious in its reactions. The reactions he'd always craved from his other toys and had never gotten.  
But, no. He should protect Mathew. Because Mathew could be something else for him. He could be the one thing that wouldn't change, that would stay fixed beside him and never leave.

Now that he'd known for so long that he couldn't control himself, the thought of controlling SOMETHING made him shiver. His blank face in the mirror every morning and the flashes of it he saw reflected now in the window showed that his feelings would stay too far gone from him to ever come back. He would make sure that Mathew would feel enough emotions to last in the memories of both of them. With a little encouragement, of course.

The emotion to first came to mind to inspire in Mathew was fear. It made sense. Fear should be there always. It was the most delicious.

Fear would be the easiest to ignite in those expressive amethyst eyes, Lars decided as he picked Mathew up and carried him not down into the basement but up to his own room, his first small act of defiance in a very long time. Too long of a time it seemed now.

Now he just had to wait until those glorious eyes would flutter open and he could start seeing those wonderful feelings rushing through them. It would be the best entertainment ever. Better than making a random person scream even.

Then his mother had to ruin his good mood by coming into his room and again ordering him to bring the boy down to the cellar. He may or may not have tied the ropes around Mathew's wrists and ankles a bit too tight as a result. Whatever, Mathew would be asleep for another few minutes at least. He would care more, later, if it still didn't seem to bother Mathew.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, how are you chpt. 4

Mathew had been forced into being another Target Scouter for the two murderers. He'd also been forced to kill some people, and he had cried about it every single night after that first death. It was horrible.

That first one, which had been the hardest to do, was the absolute worst, Mathew had nightmares about the homeless man they'd shot that night, the way his face had looked up to them from his seated position and the feeling as the gun jolted in his hand. The shocked look on the guy's face when he saw the gun, and especially the sweet innocent looking person behind it. The blood as it splattered on the cement behind the man. The body as it had slumped over and Lars and his mother had dragged him away, kicking and screaming, crying, from it. The vomit he'd thrown up shortly thereafter.

Lars would give him disgusted looks as he watched him heave with muscle wrenching sobs until he vomited nearly every night. He would say things like, "Crying for yourself just means that you pity yourself. Do you pity your situation right now, Mathew? Wouldn't that mean that you also pity me? I don't feel the need for pity. Go cry somewhere else."

Sometimes, Lars would kick him to get him to shut up.

Many times, Lars would hit him. But, despite threats to do more than that, Lars never touched him besides a smack to the head or a punch after the time he took a pair of knives to his stomach during the first week there. He'd made about a dozen cuts before he threw the knives down and said that Mathew was too boring to cut. Then he'd bandaged him up and made sure the cuts didn't get infected. Lars had even stepped in for Mathew when his mother had wanted to have a bit of fun with her newest weapons a few weeks later.

Mathew found himself feeling thankful to Lars for the small gestures many times.

Then hitting his head against the wall and saying the curse words that he'd always been too much of a goody two-shoes to say before as he wondered why he would ever even look at Lars without hate in his eyes or think about him without the same hard feeling.

But, the fact remained that he was no longer innocent, and when there is no one else around, you crave companionship. Even if the only two people around is your kidnapper and torturer.

Then the police had caught up to them a little over two years after Mathew had been kidnapped.

Lars had made a distraction to draw attention to himself when he saw the cop car pull in so that Mathew could run away. They were in the midst of a killing. There was no hiding it. Anything. So, in that split second that he knew their fate, he knew that he would protect Mathew. He'd turned back right before he'd started yelling and throwing stuff at the police and generally making a ruckus and grabbed Mathew to pull him closer. "I love you, Mathew." He'd said into Mathew's hair and wrapped him in a hug.

And Mathew had pushed him away. "I-I-I d-don't love you." He'd replied before scrambling away across the wooden floorboards of the vacation cabin they'd trapped their latest victim in. Mathew was by the door by the time Lars replied.

"I figured that."

Mathew had wrenched the door open and ran out onto the beach bordering the lake so close to the little cabin.

He'd screamed when a police officer had grabbed him.

Then Lars had called out from the door way not even fifteen feet away. "Mathew! No matter how far you run away from my mom and I, we will hunt you down again and again! You can't escape!"

Everything had been happening too fast. Mathew had started shivering in the policeman's grasp.

The officer Beilschmidt had frowned. As his coworkers had grabbed Lars and handcuffed him he'd called out to Lars. "Hey, you. What is this boy to you?"

Lars had laughed. "Isn't it obvious? He was my toy. We caught him a while ago, but I took a liking to his pretty little face. I kept him instead of killing him along with the others. A much better option considering his looks, right? Now let go of him! He's mine!"

Mathew had started crying into the policeman's shirt.

Asking him who the boy was had just been formalities. It was pretty obvious to all there that the boy wasn't one of the two killers. They just needed confirmation that he was a victim so they didn't need to take any precautions like handcuffing him or anything and scaring him anymore than he was, as shown by how he couldn't speak even and explain his story. Now they had a pretty good gist of it. If the boy couldn't speak, they could build off of what they knew now. But, was what was just said really to be believed? He shook his head a tiny bit. There was no reason to believe it wasn't the truth. There were only two killers, everyone on the case knew that. And they knew that it was a middle-aged woman and a teenage boy working together, likely mother and son. Another boy working with them had never been reported...but there had been some videos of another boy being dragged along sometimes. So maybe the story was to be believed. Questions could be asked later though. For now there were more pressing matters.

It was a good thing he'd decided that, because Mathew had passed out then and the officer, Detective Beilshmidt, had noticed his hand getting wet where it grasped Mathew's side.

He'd glanced up and, after commanding his subordinates to get Lars into the patrol car, he'd lowered Mathew to the ground and tore off his shirt.

Blood.

This boy had a deep knife wound in his side.

Blood everywhere.

"Hey! One of you come over here and start on his first aid while I detain the killers." Detective Beilschmidt called to one of his understudies that had come up with him and was trailing like a nervous duck behind him on the beach.

It was too bad that the amount of understudies almost outnumbered the number of trained officers here. But, then again, they hadn't exactly thought they would get a call from a potential victim while they were doing their rounds.

Lars struggles a lot and it takes a while to capture him and put him into cuffs. His mother commits suicide just before they burst through the doors, and Lars knows it's because she would rather die than be taken behind bars. She never had been good at dealing with her actions.

Later on-two years later

Mathew is still visiting Lars in prison. They never talk much, but Mathew just feels the need to be by him at times. His brother always tells him it isn't a good idea. And the psychiatrist his parents hired for him tells him it's just a figment of his imagination, and Lars agrees with him. But Mathew still comes, and Lars has stopped telling him to go. It's not like he had any other friends anyway besides Mathew and staying in prison was the price he must pay for his life so far.

Every time Mathew leaves, he whispers thank you to him. And sometimes, Lars is rewarded when Mathew pauses to glance back at him.

* * *

**Hiiiiii lovelies~ Have a good day, m'kay? You deserve it. ;)**


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